


Mistakes of My Other Identity

by ChrissyForestCat



Category: Miraculous Ladybug, Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: For YOI Secret Santa 2k16, Identity Reveal, M/M, Miraculous Ladybug AU, Secret Identity, Starts off vaguely angsty, Viktor is Chat Noir with a different name, Yuuri is Ladybug, but by the end it's all happy fluff and crack p much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 14:45:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9077113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChrissyForestCat/pseuds/ChrissyForestCat
Summary: Yuuri doesn't think he's superhero material, Tikki reassures him he is, and Viktor makes and corrects his mistakes through a secret identity.__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________“Oh definitely!” Viktor swiped his phone up and began to flip through his photo gallery. “I have a poodle at home, his name is Makkachin and he’s the absolute cutest and I haven’t seen him in a week because of the finals but Mila’s always wants to watch him for me, I think she just likes spamming Yuri with pictures of him to piss-“
“That’s it, I’m leaving, this partnership is not going to work out I’m gone and be sure not to tell anyone about me.” It said as it began to collect Viktor’s things lying about. A sense of protectiveness rose but he pushed it down since his medal was still around his neck, everything else in the pile replaceable.
Viktor caught its tail. “Partnership? You just teased me for thinking this was marriage related!”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ephemerality](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemerality/gifts).



> This is for obsessivemarrish.tumblr.com for the Yuri!!! on Ice Secret Santa Exchange. I really wish I hadn't run out of time, I had so many ideas that couldn't be used. Like Queen Yuuri and Yurio the bee, and Phichit the excitable Peacock hero. I might write it if enough people want me to?  
> As with all my writing it's vaguely crack, so. Sorry about that. I hope you enjoy!

Sobbing in a bathroom was hardly a fun experience, he supposes he has to thank Yuri Plisetsky for drying his tears- a gift basket perhaps. He figured “The Ice Tiger of Russia” would enjoy a puppy or two.

 

Yuuri sighed, the slap of footsteps echoing from outside the door holding off a fresh wave of tears. He wished he’d broken down in his hotel room instead, at least that had a lock for when the one on his vault of emotions broke.

 

Another breakdown might draw the punk back- emotions a personal affront to angsty teenage hegemonic masculinity. Yet repressing might have his break down broadcasted on international television. A loss offers a better story than a win after all.

 

A sigh. If he walks out with any obvious sign of tears it’d be all over the world in hours. Critique him all you like on his performance, hell he likely deserves it! But his break downs are for him and him alone. And the paper towels from the dispenser would irritate his nose to a fierce blush.

 

A sigh. Resentment choked his throat even as he came to a conclusion. An obvious solution, but it was the ease born from extensive experience that made the answer so blatant- and resentful.

 

A sigh. He never actually told Phichit just what the hand-drawn-puppies-in-skates towel was used for. He’s certain his roommate knew anyway, the gift had been given with a tight hug and, “To wipe up all your blood, sweat, and tears when I’m not there.”

 

A sigh, as he tips his bad upside down, agitated to the point that his gear seemed worthless. Clutter from his past few competitions crashed to the counter. The wrapper of the protein bar he ate before his performance fluttered down and nearly opened the flow of tears again at the sight. He tore his eyes away to scan the remaining objects, eyes latching onto his little bundle of comfort.

 

A sigh. He grabbed the towel, frowning at the solid shapes he felt within. Unbounding the cloth caused two things to tumble out.

 

A smile. Apparently Celestino had planned for his inevitable incompetence at self-care. Except. A hand-kerchief, a hand towel, and a pack of travel tissues seemed a bit excessive. And a solid something was covered by the hand-kerchief. Shifting the cloth revealed a red, hexagonal box, with Chinese characters along the rim. A strange gift– if he wasn’t in such a self-depreciative mindset, he might’ve considered that is was from a fan– but perhaps it’s better he didn’t, since presents from fans always needed to be examined- but curiosity won over.

 

A scream.

 

Not because of the anime-esque ladybug. No, the flash of light startled him; the huge-ass ladybug stunned him silent.

 

The creature blinked at him, flew close enough to make him flinch, then exclaimed, “Were you just crying? Oh, I’m sorry I wasn’t here! Who should we go give a stern talking to?” as she pat his cheek.

 

Did… a polite insect just offer to beat someone up for him?

 

He couldn’t help the flush that rose to his cheeks, ducking his head and scrubbing at his eyes with the handkerchief. The was no one to beat up besides himself anyway.

 

The bug gave him a sympathetic nuzzle, floating onto his shoulder and saying, “Go ahead and clean yourself up. I’ll talk, you can ask questions, and I won’t look once, unless you ask.”

 

Throat clumped by shock and gratitude, his need to be polite won over his sanity as he reached over to pat the small creature on her head. The tangible form forcing a gasp. “My name is Tikki. I’m a kwami, and I’m here to partner up with you to help save the world.”

 

“Nice to meet. Wait, what?”

 

She ignored him, “The earrings in the box are called Miraculous, I combine with them to make you a superhero! And–"

 

He swatted at her, apologizing for doing so even as he curled into a ball. Did one of the other competitor’s think this was a joke? He was a loser. What superhero could ever be a loser when they always need to win?

 

Tiny hands on his cheek interrupted his thought process. “My eyes are closed. You can pull yourself together without me seeing, but I’d still like to talk to you.”

 

A shudder. “Why me?” A loser who couldn’t deal with his emotions properly, an adult who sobbed in a bathroom after a crappy week, who could be that and a hero?

 

Her antenna tickled his cheek. “You aren’t your weaknesses, neither are you your strengths. _You_ are who we wanted, and I can see why already.”

 

A bitter laugh.

 

~…~…~…~…~

 

Makkachin deserves a better owner. Not because he’s a horrible caretaker, but he’s sort of neglectful. If there’s one positive to his imminent retirement, it’s that he has no more travel from his sweet pup.

 

And it is imminent. His body cannot hold out, if he tried he’d throw out his hip. He valued his sex life more than that.

 

But what was he supposed to do? His career was his life and passion, everything he did he had dedicated to it. What was he supposed to do?

 

Join Chris in seeking out (read: stalking) competition? Become a young cat lady, but with dogs?

 

He had maybe 15 minutes to grab his bag and change before the reporters screamed the door down. Shit at personal life though he is, Yakov could glare any tabloid into submission for at least 12 minutes. Not enough for his preferred skin care procedure, but it worked. (At least his costume couldn’t give him a wedgie in a bag).

 

What was he supposed to be doing? Right. Stripping. And. Cameras. No wait, stripping then cameras. Stripping and cameras would come later.

 

The weight of the medal slowed his movements, out of respect to the honor it preached and in forced contemplation. Each item he handled with care, as conscious as he is that this could be his final time in this situation.

 

What was he supposed to do after the gala and banquet tomorrow? Uncertainty crept along his spine and into his mind, each item lined along the floor with the precision and care he usually only exerted on quads, or into understanding his coach’s grunts.

 

Hair product. Eyeliner. Creepy phallic-shaped object with the tip shaped like his dog’s face- note to tell the staff to tighten security on suspicious fans, and to give the number attached to the toy to Chris. Lip gloss. Nail polish. Hexagonal box with Chinese characters around it.

 

A… strange gift from a fan. A surprising one. Maybe it was from a fellow competitor? The only male Chinese competitor he knows of is in the Junior division… But perhaps that would be considered insensitive of him, to presume… Whatever, it’s not like he’s famous for his self-control. And he’s in his home country! No one would lethally harm him… Well, besides a few exes.

 

What’s he supposed to do, not open a gift?

 

The regret came the moment the bright flash filled the room. Though it faded once he realized that death via explosive would likely be more painful. Nestled inside the box was a silver ring… He’s not sure why that required blinding him, but what’s he supposed to do, complain about it?

 

“Ahh. This isn’t a marriage proposal from Guang-Hong, is it? Kid’s cute but I don’t do long-distance or 10 year age differences,” he murmurs, not daring to upset the position of the ring. A sudden voice spoke into his ear had him spinning, the box slipped from his hands.

 

“Ten years is nothing, kid, you’re barely a day old compared to me.” A… tiny black cat hovered in front of him, body bobbing with snickers, “I’ve been doing this thousands of years, and I have to say, you’re the first to think “sudden proposal” as the reason why I’m here. A bit narcissistic, aren’t you?” It said as it floated to his bag, beginning to dig through it.

 

Brain unable to process exactly what had just spoke to him, he managed a blink and said, “It’s happened before.” The cat’s slit green eyes flickered to him as he clarified, “Sudden proposals from strangers.”

 

The eyes rolled, “Human culture is as impossible to keep up with as always, now I remember why ten years means so much to you guys. Just slow down, sleep a bit, and- hey, do you have any cheese?”

 

Everything about this situation seemed to bewilder Viktor more, “A block of cheese would triple my daily calorie limit,” because figure skating eating habits were notorious for their lack of sustenance– and he tended to interact under the impression that anyone, or thing, speaking with him knew who he was. “Aren’t cats carnivores? Where’d you come from anyway? Did Yuri leave you here? Did he commission to have a talking cat plush made because I defended him when Yakov said he needed someone managing his finances but-“ A paw tapped his forehead.

 

“Do I act like a stuffed animal? Or look and act like a cat?” The black blob of snark asked, tapping Viktor’s forehead in a snarky, ‘use your brain a bit, please,’ gesture. The appearance of the, hmm, whatever it was, still made his head hurt to consider, but he might as well make sense of it. This was his reality now, whether a dream or insanity born of grief for his lost career.

 

A few inches of solid black bipedal figure, only broken by all green eyes with a black pupil. Cat shaped ears, a tail, and singular black strands similar to whiskers protruding from his cheeks and from its forehead. It was flying. His conclusion reached, he said, “Well given that all you’ve done since meeting me is snark at me, ask for food, and mention how much you like to sleep, I’d say you’re an accurate depiction of one,” he grinned. It sniffed.

 

“Oh, wonderful, you’re on a strict diet of no cheese and, what, you’re a dog-lover or som–“

 

“Oh definitely!” Viktor swiped his phone up and began to flip through his photo gallery. “I have a poodle at home, his name is Makkachin and he’s the absolute cutest and I haven’t seen him in a week because of the finals but Mila’s always wants to watch him for me, I think she just likes spamming Yuri with pictures of him to piss-“

 

“That’s it, I’m leaving, this partnership is _not_ going to work out I’m gone and be sure not to tell anyone about me.” It said as it began to collect Viktor’s things lying about. A sense of protectiveness rose but he pushed it down since his medal was still around his neck, everything else in the pile replaceable.

 

Viktor caught its tail. “Partnership? You just teased me for thinking this was marriage related!”

 

The cat sighed, flopped on the ground, and then winced when a scream rang out. Muttered something like, “Least the bug isn’t having an easier time,” darting up to grab Viktor’s sleeve as he turned to move towards the scream. “Look, my name is Plagg. I’m a kwami, I’m here to make you a superhero through that ‘engagement’ ring.”

 

Viktor blinked. What was he supposed to do, join the other person and shout with joy? With fear?

 

On the other side of the lockers, the door crashed open as a stream of reporters began yelling questions with his name inter-sped within. He glanced down at his still nude form.

 

With fear it is, then.

 

~…~…~…~…~

 

“My fans, ah– I mean, friends are going to chew me out for suddenly doing this.” Yuuri mumbled around his thumb, biting into it while he waits for Tikki to finish piercing his right ear. She reached to rub his ear, whether in comfort or to test where the needle they’d dug out of his emergency costume repair kit should be inserted. He breathed, “If nothing else Celestino is gonna say I should have waited until I was feeling better before making any drastic changes to my appearance. He’ll think I did this to show I’m moving on, or something.”

 

Which, since he had no hopes of just yet, meant he was going to have to lie about his emotions again. At this point he might as well not even have any, given how many of them he keeps to himself, his selfish, reclusive ass too anxiety ridden to do _anything_ right.

 

“Well, aren’t you?” Tikki breathed into his ear, stabbing the needle soaked in alcohol and not even acknowledging his flinch before flying in front of him. “You agreed to be a superhero not even fifteen minutes after you broke down over the idea. You agreed even with what happened to you earlier. To me, that suggests you’re already strong enough to make some huge changes. And remember, I know a lot.” Her small hands moved to wipe non-existent blood off the needle onto his puppy towel. She placed it in the alcohol again.

 

His face flushed, eyes dodging hers, knowing the creature for less than half an hour yet aware his self-deprecation wasn’t appreciated. Not for her sake, but his. How did he deserve this sweet of a companion; a personal silencer to his mental illness?

 

The alcohol drenching the needle glinted as Tikki lifted, flying up close to his ear and rubbing it as she had the other. “My magic will help prevent the holes from closing or getting infected. It doesn’t do to have one of my bugs out of commission because they can’t wear their Miraculous, not to mention the danger of leaving a holder without powers.” The prick of pain brought a rush of a heady feeling of power and responsibility, a symbol of job to protect. She giggled at his gasping inhale, smiling sweetly, “We protect everyone else, but also each other. Oh! And you’ll have a partner!”

 

Wait, shit, someone else would be relying on him? The tiles of the bathroom floor’s patterns blurred together, “Who is it!” The crack in his voice hardly felt heroic, but he was a mess taking care of just himself.

 

She tittered and twirled, “That’s for you two to decide to tell each other! Or find out, whichever may come first. For the first battle I suggest you keep your identities secret, but it’s entirely up to you,” with a graceful pat to his head.

 

He bit his lip, then shook his head as he reached for the earrings thrown across the bathroom countertop. He concentrated on breathing in and out through his nose while he pushed them through his new punctures. They shimmered. His ears doubled in their weight.

 

His eyes met the bright-blue of his new companion. Yuuri twitched his mouth to match hers, and she flew up to nestle in his hair. He said, “I’m feeling better, so it’s time I go face the reporters, huh?” The encouraging, “Let’s go,” gave him the boost to pack up his bag and not hesitate in front of the door more than two minutes.

 

~…~…~…~…~

 

_“A commemorative photo?”_ Plagg mocked from his hiding spot within his jacket, a derisive snort following the parodied statement. “A meeting to go in the history books alright.” Viktor’s frown deepened, the unusual fan interaction and off-putting comment putting him on edge. A call of his name made him barely catch the, “Tikki’s gonna ride a hard grudge for a long-time for that one, kitten,” but the public setting bit his response from being said aloud.

 

 He rubbed his forehead, unsure as to why this bothered him so much. Sure the face was familiar, but many of his devoted fans’ faces were if he saw them enough. Perhaps he’d been involved in the event? And they’d interacted before? That would explain the man’s reaction to not being recognized… The jacket colors were familiar as well.

 

Oh. Right, a Japanese skater named Yuuri had bombed his GPF performance, Yuri had ranted for ten minutes on everything the man had done wrong. First of which was have the same name as him of course, but he’d actually analyzed the programs quite thoroughly. The jacket looked like the Japanese team’s didn’t it? Ah, he seriously needed to work on his forgetfulness, being an asshole to everyone he meets would come back to bite him eventually, or so Yakov tells him. Though it’s easy to shut Yakov up on the matter when Viktor shows him the latest recording of, “Yakov greeting someone by spitting in their face.” At least Viktor only did it metaphorically.

 

He’ll have to apologize at the Gala tonight– and maybe watch the guy’s performance before then too. Just so he’ll have something to make the customary small talk with.

 

A sudden commotion in front of him made him blink. Then blink again. He rubbed his eyes, ignoring the feeling of his foundation smudging to his hand. An uncharacteristic panic rose into his throat.

 

A glimmering, 15 foot tall tiger made of clear, baby-blue ice crouched over a prone figure of blond hair. An ice tiger… Plagg had explained that akumas were created as a product of negative emotions. He once joked that flying with Yuri was always more expensive because of the 8 suitcases of emotional baggage that were overweight. Was he going to have his first fight as a superhero be against his young rink mate?

 

A bite to his neck tore his eyes from examining the figure below the lion. The black cat jerked his head in the direction of the nearest storage room and said, “Staring just leaves more for your partner to clean up in the end. You wanna do something, make yourself invulnerable and _then_ look for openings– you’re useless as yourself. Oh, and. Hope you chose your name.”

 

Security guards began to round up the attendees and if he didn’t hide, someone would notice “World Famous Bachelor Viktor Nikiforov” hadn’t moved to safety and he’d get his own personal defense squad. Except now _he_ should be the defense squad. What a turn of events, he had to be selfless for once. A “staff only” sign had him running and hoping for possibility of no lock, but he jumped back as the door began to open.

 

Out peaked a timid face covered in a red and black spotted domino mask. The stranger blinked at his chest, glancing up towards his face and screeching, backing away to the opposite end of the closet. Viktor blinked and squinted in the darkness, trying to catch sight of the strange outfit the other wore. Unable to see much of anything, all he could catch was the man’s panting breath as he began to hyperventilate, which okay, but of an extreme reaction no matter how handsome the features.

 

“Excuse me, sir, but did I do something to offend you?” Viktor offered in attempt to demonstrate to the man some manners. The muttered, “Hell yes,” quickly covered by, “I mean, of course not, I just really need to leave to go fight the giant monster in this skin-tight suit,” and left him blinking at the rushed exit.

 

“Not sure if I should be relieved at being ignored by everyone, or hurt,” he mumbled.

 

“A day less in the spotlight is good for everyone,” Plagg said. The blur of a cat flew down to the ring now adorned on Viktor’s right middle finger, lying against it and meeting eyes. “Just say ‘claws out.”

 

Seriously, why wasn’t Yuri chosen for this? He’s squeal in excitement for an excuse to say those words aloud. Though making himself think of Yuri is not the best idea, he really isn’t used to fighting through reluctance. He rubbed across the ring and behind Plagg’s ears as he said, “Claws out.”

 

A sudden, simultaneous rush of strength and a flash of light both startled and empowered him. Leather wrapped around him, his hair rearranging around foreign objects, a baton appeared at his hip, shoes reshaped, and a mask lined half of his face.

 

A mirror leant against the wall, and despite the pitch black of the room, his reflection lit his eyes easily. The slit of his eyes bring a mutter, “Wow,” to his lips. Yet the screams of pedestrians reached his now enhanced hearing, and he had to stop himself from being too vain. People needed his help, and he’s already had his mandatory breathtaking public performance today anyway. And Bug-magoo the fearless did not seem the most secure in themselves or their ability.

 

Oh, speaking og, he forgot to ask Plagg about his powers. Least he could learn on the run, the run he should likely be doing because _oh shit Yuri isn’t the monster but he is hanging from its mouth,_ jacket clenched like the scruff of a cat’s neck. Instinctually he reached for his staff, extending it and stabbing it into the ground and-

 

He slipped, nose crashing into the hard cold ice. Whining pitifully, he sat up mumbling., “Having such an _ice_ time right now.” And paused. Did he just. Pun? Like a shitty, popsicle-stick worthy pun?

 

“Right. That’s it, worst decision of my life, you can have back the ring, Yuri’ll punk his way out of this mess. I. Am. Do-“

 

“Oh shit. Move! Mov- Sorry!”

 

Twenty years of skating really should have prevented this from happening. He dedicated his life to you ice, why do you have to break his nose like this?

 

For a moment, the warm and red covering his face brought panic, his vanity pulling through his sense of duty; until the warmth solidified into gloved hands, fingering his face for injury. His face was tilted to meet- the bug from the storage room. Except, perhaps ironically, less panic filled his face, over taken by apologetic concern.

 

“Ahh, I am so sorry! You look good tho- I mean! Your face. Is fine. Not hurt,” and then he chuckled. “I haven’t been able to do much right today, I messed up this meeting too, and we’re supposed to work together, at least Viktor Nikiforov and I aren’t partners, and wow I am so sorry.”

 

Distracted as he was by his nose pulsing, Viktor only understood vaguely what was said. He did, however, catch his own name- too humble for his own good. “Nikiforov? Five-times world champion?”

 

His partner in justice blinked, “Yeah? I got all sulky when my long-time idol didn’t recognize me- I can’t even blame him.” His shoulders twisted to hunch in on himself, even as he made finger quotes around his next words, “Knowing your competition is good and all, sure, but it only really applies if I’m actual competition.” He gave a mocking sigh, “A commemorative photo? Multi-champion against dime-a dozen Japanese skater is laughable.”

 

Shock laced up Viktor’s spine, his gasp unnoticed as _Yuuri Katsuki_ continued, “I’m hurt, a little self-loathing, but my dog just died and a fifteen-year-old Russian Punk just told me the best thing I could do for everyone is retire and-“

 

Viktor interrupted, “Look at what you’re wearing,” because he couldn’t take back what he did but he can do damage control.

 

Yuuri blushed and oh wow, he could physically feel his face soften because how adorable? “I’d uh, rather not.” His arms wrapped around his stomach, “Tikki didn’t warn me about the skin-tight aspect of being a superhero,” with a self-conscious rub to his gut.

 

Viktor made a wondering, “Hmm,” noise as he studied the shy man. And wow, the skin tightness left nothing to the imagination, and the sweet demeanor juxtaposed against his striking athlete’s figure brewed a well of want and fondness within the champion. The way his partner’s flush increased when he stepped closer and gently grasped his chin almost brought a giddy giggle to his lips, “You look as beautiful as the flowers that attract your namesake, little bug.”

 

An attractive blush further burned Yuuri’s cheeks, and Viktor couldn’t stop the delight the forced his next words out, “Don’t let people you don’t know _bug_ you this much,” and then he wanted to die.

 

Until, this wonderful, sweet, adorable man burst into a surprised laugh mixed with a groan, twisting on his heel to face Viktor head on and say, “I’ll work on it, but I’ll rely on your claws to tear up what they say until then,” and he grabbed the yo-yo at his belt once again. He looked over his shoulder at the dumb-struck man, “Besides, plenty besides your claws are sharp enough for my tastes, kitten,” and then he threw it out towards the rampaging big-cat.

 

Viktor’s heart skipped a beat. He would absolutely be apologizing later tonight. And hoped for a number in return.

 

~…~…~…~…~

 

Embarrassment #468-908-3948 dealt with, Yuuri turned his attention on the “akuma.” as Tikki had referred to it.

 

All around him objects were strewn everywhere, separated mostly by ice layering the ground. Unsurprising given people’s panic to escape, but the strange aspect was the many rings and IPhone laying around. Much as little care Yuuri has for much technology, even he preferred to keep his phone on him at all times.Especially during an emergency. First and foremost, however, he needed to figure out how he could get around.

 

His partner unsteadily slid up behind him, staff wobbling as he attempted to use it as a walking stick of sorts. “I told you to look at what you’re wearing because you’re wearing a super-powered outfit as a chosen superhero, so obviously the best thing you can do is help everyone here, you know.” Yuuri flushed, again, but didn’t answer, because if they were supposed to help everyone, then they couldn’t discuss his self-worth issues anymore.

 

His partner sulkily continued, “You can call me Чёрные кот, by the way. Not imaginative, but we’ll need names to introduce ourselves with soon, and it’s fitting,” and Yuuri felt his amusement at the cat’s failure to skate diminish.

 

“Чёрные кот,” he attempted to repeat, confusion tilting his expression. “What does that mean?”

 

The man’s eyes widened, “You don’t speak Russian?” Yuuri’s eyes widened when the man slapped himself, catching the, “Of course he doesn’t idiot,” but not understanding. They were Sochi right now, Russian was an understandable assumption. But then his partner continued, “I was speaking Russian earlier is all.”

 

“No, you were… Ah,” he mumbled. He doesn’t remember what language he heard earlier, actually, now he’s sure he didn’t register any one language, he just understood what was said. “You don’t happen to know Japanese, do you?”

 

The excited light in the man’s eyes made him blink, “No, I don’t, but it’s a wonderful language! Were you speaking that earlier?” At Yuuri’s nod he dropped his staff and almost feel over, only the arm Yuuri grabbed keeping him upright. Yuuri almost sighed when no bashful smile crept on the man’s expression, “I guess these translate for us then!” He pointed to his ring, black with five glowing green paws on it, “But just not name? I told you to call me black cat.”

 

Oh. Yuuri nodded. Japanese wasn’t a common language to know in Russia, so he said, in English, “How about just call me Ladybug?” They didn’t know if these only translated for them after all. And he didn’t need to be called a weeaboo _here_ too.

 

A crick rang out. Up ahead of them stood the akuma, glaring with the intensity of any angry tiger. The Russian punk who’d yelled at him in the bathroom still hang from its mouth, glaring with such a similar look that Yuuri almost could have cried from resurfacing sadness and ironic amusement.

 

“Hey assholes!” Yuri Plisetsky screeched, arms crossed in defense and teen angst. “I’m making the questionable decision to trust that those outfits aren’t for some strange foreplay and you have something to do with my crazed fan here. Could you get them to stop!”

 

Кот chuckled beside him, “That’s what we’re here for, but be patient, your majesty, it’s our first time.” And Yuuri couldn’t help his giggle when the punk screamed a few insults, immediately followed by Кот tripping when he attempted to take a step forward. “Were the metal-tipped boots really that necessary? A sleek aesthetic does not increase superhero capability,” he whined.

 

“Take them off,” Yuuri suggested, watching as the giant ice monster curled into a ball surrounding the punk fairy. He shook his head as another whine came from his left.

 

“I can’t! They’re basically glued onto my feet. My skates are even in this room somewhere, but I can’t put them on,” Кот slumped, momentarily defeated. And Yuuri filed away the fact that his partner was an ice skater for later, turning the idea over in his mind.

 

He turned to Кот, “I don’t have any kind of shoes with my costume. And my bag is just a room over. Do you think you could hold it off while I get my skates on? It might be easier for everyone.”

 

Кот’s eyes sparkled again as he waved his hands wildly. “Of course!” and despite his hesitance, Yuuri didn’t have the time to argue.

 

~…~…~…~…~

 

Yuuri was a breath-taking skater.

 

His performance wasn’t one to draw in eyes, he just dodged around the monster, jumping away from swipes with an inhuman strength. And some of Viktor knew that part of the height he saw came from the super strength of the transformation, but that doesn’t discredit the level of grace carried.

 

He watched transfixed as Ladybug sailed through the air, landing beside him and digging his skates in to halt his momentum. His eyes were bright with enjoyment and concentration as he reported, “You’re right, there’s a VIP pass hanging around its neck. Do you think you could try to move in and grab Yuri, that’s the blond kid its holding, and I’ll break away the pass?”

 

Now, a few special attacks later, and seriously there _better_ be a recording of Yuuribug shouting, “Lucky Charm,” because that was adorable. Er, anyway, some two special attacks later, and a frantic apology from Ladybug about needing to leave the scene overriding his attempts to tell reveal himself- only able to tell Yuuri who Ladybug was but unable to prove it- and a gala performance and more interviews later, he stood mingling with the guests.

 

If yesterday’s experience caused anything, it provided somewhat more interesting small talk than usual between the skaters. If nothing else he got to talk about something else besides his own training for his performances, and he was quickly realizing that gushing about Yuuribug could become a favorite activity of his. He still didn’t catch sight of the man, but he’d gotten here a bit early, so his hope held out.

 

Eventually he did, but the downtrodden and embarrassed look marring the man’s face gave him pause. He looked overwhelmed, likely hearing all the praise Ladybug kept being given, and so Viktor held back. For at least a little while. However long his notorious impulse control held him back anyway.

 

~…~…~…~…~

 

“We need to switch holders,” Plagg whined, floating near the ceiling as his charge held onto his slurring-drunk of a partner. Tikki shook her head with a laughing sigh.

 

“Yuuri usually has more a calm and shy mien, he’s just like this when he’s had too much to drink it seems. You wouldn’t have any fun with him once his hangover takes over,” she said as she rubbed his head. Then she giggled, “Besides, do you really think I’m giving him up after the performance he just put on? That was _gold.”_

 

Plagg snorted, “So? My charge has actually won gold- five times! As nearly every conversation my kitten’s had has said. Some people say it more times than he’s won it, all within a few minutes. Not sure I’ve ever heard one of my kitten’s sound so dead inside.”

 

Tikki flew out of their little alcove for a second, giggling as she saw the scene below her, “Well, he seems perfectly happy now.”

 

Plagg snorted, “Ah yes, the age old “Black Cat falls for Ladybug” scenario. How does this always happen again?” He flew next to her, watching “Yuuri” grind against his charge without abandon.

 

“My bugs are just irresistible,” she laughed, then turned to her partner again. “Your cats always seem to lack external love in their life, whereas my bugs have love but no self-love. They help fill each other’s voids, but it’s easier to give love than it is to give people the confidence to trust in themselves, isn’t it?”

 

She could see him nod for a moment, right before he rolled his eyes, for appearance of course, “Getting philosophical huh? I think I just get all the saps. Do you think he’ll tell him tonight?”

 

Tikki stared at their charges, then looked quite serious as she said, “Do you think mine will remember if he does?”

 

Plagg snorted again, “Good point,” even as he felt a little beaten down, understanding how much this person already meant to him. As always.

 

But Tikki smiled, “They’ll be together again,” she mumbled, seeing the cat that just got the cream look the Black Cat miraculous holder had as he stared down at her own charge. “As always.”

 

~…~…~…~…~

 

Viktor gave a content sigh as he transformed, feeling powerful relief strap itself all across his body. His quick lunch still managed to taste amazing when he knew he could call him directly after it, thanking the Miraculous for having long-distance call features, given it’s his only way to contact his partner.

 

“I want you to tell me who you are the next time we meet in person,” Ladybug had said, in their first call when he’d attempted to explain himself to him. The rejection stung, but he understood, and because of it, he’d had some amazing o-purr-tunities.

 

“Hello, Yuuri,” he said as he grinned in a way often described as “dazzling,” quickly shifting to “cheeky” as he looked behind Ladybug and further into the room, “You too, Viktor Nikiforov,” and laughing at the groan.

 

“Коooooooт,” Ladybug whined, face buried in his hands, ears tipped red. The harder he laughed the more done he became, until finally he said, “As if you have no celebrity poster in you room.”

 

Кот calmed into chuckles, “Of course I do, and it happens to be of my personal favorite skater too,” he said with a wink, watching as Ladybug’s face came even closer to the color of his suit. “Is there even more than there were before? I’m hurt you know, there’s plenty of merchandise of the two of us now, and you still go find pictures of this other man to hang up everywhere…”

 

Ladybug’s long-suffering sigh was dulled by his own smile, “I have plenty of photos of us Кот. Besides, I didn’t put more up, I’m just back in Japan! This is my childhood room, and all teenage obsessions tend to go a bit overboard.”

 

Кот gasped as he moved to jump off the roof to begin his patrol, “Really? What’s happened?”

 

And he smiled and commented occasionally as Ladybug told his story of arriving home, ears drooping when he mentioned visiting his dog’s shrine, “I promise to show it to you whenever I can go downstairs in suit so you can pay him some respects too,” tail swishing- “seriously, you’re more like a dog than a cat,”- when he was told of his family’s warm greeting.

 

“Oh. I also got to see my childhood friend and old rink-mate Yuko! I even performed something I’ve been working on for her, and she seemed really moved by it, even though I messed it up a bunch…” Ladybug’s eyes listed to the side, knowing that Кот wouldn’t appreciate the self-deprecation almost as much as Tikki.

 

“Well, you’re in your off season. I don’t imagine it was an easy program,” Кот paused, leaving the ending open in an attempt to egg his bug into telling him more about it, or better yet offer to show him, but continued when nothing was said, “but you have every right to some mistakes right now. You’re not participating in anything until the GPF right? You’ve still got a long time.”

 

Ladybug’s eyes once again fell from the screen, “Hmm. If I do that. I’m still considering moving on with my life.”

 

“Bug… You got close last time, don’t you want to go for gold?” Кот questioned, eyes searching for anything besides defeat.

 

Ladybug shifted, “Hmm,” he non-committingly hummed, “I want to see you though. You’ll be in the GPF right?” with the sort of hopefulness that Кот himself had felt dashed just a moment ago.

 

A false smile twisted his lips along with his false confidence, “Of course!” even though he did not know. Neither of them did, but for now false assurances would be enough. He wanted to promise that he would come Japan anyway, that it didn’t bother him, but he knew the response he would get, the “You need to train! If you want to make it to the finals for the first time you have to put in the work.” He never bothered to correct the first time comment. Besides, they’re meeting should memorable and meaningful.

 

A gunshot rang out.

 

“I have to go now Bug, there’s a robbery down the street.” He explained as Ladybug hummed, seemingly tired. “Sleep well, Lovebug.”

 

“Don’t die, kitten, I never got a kiss,” he whispered even as Ladybug drifted off.

 

If only he’d known what would happen that night.

 

~…~…~…~…~

 

Yuuri frantically ran, further and further into his home, trying to find wherever his idol could be. The dog upfront had resembled his Vic-chan too much, and his father had watched him endlessly obsess over Viktor Nikiforov for over half of Yuuri’s life- he knew exactly who was in his onsen.

 

He burst out into in the cold spring air, breath heaving into a standstill as he caught sight of who sat in the hot spring. He stared transfixed with a pounding heart, begging the man to not stand lest they both lose all their shame. And then he did, slowly, throwing his arm out with the grace Yuuri always laid witness to in video.

 

“Yuuri, starting today, I’ll be your coach,” with a wink, and combined with his name Yuuri had a hard time reminding himself that this scenario was strange and he had a boyfriend half-way across the world who wouldn’t appreciate his breathlessness. “I’ll make you win the Grand Prix Final,” and now Yuuri felt broken.

 

As soon as Yuuri’s vocal cord were his again, the long drawn out, “What,” petering off, Viktor’s smile grew shy. And then he broke Yuuri’s mind beyond repair.

 

“Ah. I know it’s a bit early, but I couldn’t wait to see you again, not after the video.” He took a long breath, grin turning sweet and familiar all at once, “You said before that you didn’t work with Viktor Nikiforov. Well now you do! And we’re already partners. It’s great to see you again, Lovebug,” and a little black thing flew out from the bushes behind him as he exclaimed, “Claws out!”

 

Yuuri’s mind cracked a bit further, squinting through the bright light as Viktor Nikiforov transformed into his superhero boyfriend right in front of his eyes. The resemblance was uncanny, now that he knew of course, but Yuuri couldn’t even breathe past the weight his mind had just gained. His eyes followed the flickering leather tail, almost hypnotized by the movement- or perhaps by the now wet Viktor in _skin tight black leather_ and they were dating so he _could_ openly ogle- just as Кот smirked.

 

“So how about that kiss, hmm?” And Yuuri broke even further, but Tikki’s presence by his shoulder helped to begin putting him together again, as she always does. Yuuri settled himself, glancing at the window to check that no one was looking through before muttering, “Spots on.”

 

Кот’s silly grin had grown by the time Yuuri had finished transforming, and Ladybug stared at his outstretched hand. He threw his yo-yo around a branch behind Кот, testing its security as he ran towards his dumbass boyfriend.

 

He lifted of the ground, kicking directly into Кот’s dumbfounded gut, laughing hysterically when they crashed down into the greenery behind the onsen. He glared at the cat as he embarrassedly screamed, “You knew about the posters!”

 

And now Кот had (fake) groaning and bursting into laughter, de-transforming right before Ladybug’s eyes, “I wasn’t kidding when I said I have posters of my favorite person, or skater, up you know,” and Ladybug melted at the sight of his joyous laughter, ignoring his awkwardness and annoyance for long enough to de-transform and kneel before his boyfriend’s hunched form.

 

“Well, you should’ve told me you were both of those for me too, you know.” And then he kissed him, leaning entirely on the confidence Ladybug used with Кот to do so. Soft and sweet, only broken by Tikki’s explosive shout.

 

“You! I’ve wanted to yell at you for months!” She flew close to Viktor’s face, enough for his eyes to un-focus trying to see her. “Commemorative photo! Ugh!”

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to discuss this au or YOI and Miraculous in general with me, hmu at makkachinssuccessor.tumblr.com Otherwise, I hope you enjoyed!


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